History : Born In Siberia , but raised in Great Britain, the life of respected reporter Sasha Clark did not begin peacefully. Born in the spring following an especially harsh winter, Sasha came into this world during the midst of a minor rebellion in the cold north, the result of food shortages among the more remote villages. Not a young man by any stretch, Her father knew that such troubled brewing could easily bloom into a full scale uprising of the populace, and that a Russia gripped by revolution would be no place to raise a daughter under the best of circumstances. But then, he was also not facing the best of circumstances, for his beloved daughter had been born a joker, covered head to toe in a writhing mass of tentacles which sprouted and disappeared from one moment to the next. In the small hamlets which dotted the countryside, those touched by the virus were seldom found to be welcome, old superstitions coming to mind all to easily, ostracizing the unfortunate victims of the infection as having been touched by demons.

So, with his newborn daughter in one hand, and his wife along side, he fled the country and made his way across the border, into Europe and finally settling in a small town along the coast of Great Britain. He found a job working as a civil engineer, with which he could support his family.

Sasha herself spent a good deal of her childhood in isolation from her peers. While western society was far more educated than the rural outposts that had been left behind, fears and prejudices against ‘her kind’ we’re still present. But, as she grew, things changed. You see, Sasha wasn’t a joker, merely an Ace who’d never learned real control over her abilities. It wasn’t till her teen years when she came to realize this. In a bout of binge drinking, she had a series of several blackouts. All her life, she’d assumed her powers were biological, rather than a manifestation of her conscious will. Because she’d always believed this, that she had no real control over her abilities, her subconscious fed these feelings right into her powers. She believed she couldn’t turn her power off, and so she couldn’t. But, blitzed to high heaven and barely able to remember who she was, head clouded with far to many drinks, there was nothing to sustain her abilities, and they shut down for the first time.

When Sasha sobered up, and found her tentacles were gone, she thought it was a miracle. And, perhaps, it was. But she didn’t have to be afraid to walk the streets anymore, she looked normal now, an Ace all along.

Following high school, Sasha went on to peruse a higher education. She got a Bachelors degree in Journalism, and managed to get an internship with the British Broadcasting Channel. Her internship eventually turned into a full career, working as an investigative reporter. Most of her work involved hopping redeye flights to and fro, following political events and conferences all along the Atlantic, as well as occasional runs to the orient. Amid her work, she also got into a relationship with one of her colleagues, An older reporter who’d promised he could help boost her up from a no-name understudy and get her an On-camera position. She was young at the time, naive, easily led astray by her feelings. She never thought to question if he was already married, and only discovered that this was indeed the case after his wife caught the two of them after hours. The affair was over, and Sasha was left alone and heartbroken. Worse though, she was left pregnant.

Her child carried the wildcard virus, and was not so fortunate to be among the 10% to survive, and was stillborn. Sasha took it hard, another link in the run of bad luck she’d gotten caught up in. She used the time off she’d been granted for maternity leave to try and get her life sorted out. She started receiving therapy, which helped her deal with the depression she felt. It helped, a little. At least she was able to get back to work, having left the field of TV reporting, transferring over to the Newspaper buissiness. A change of scenery, something to help her move on. It was rewarding work, and Sasha did enjoy getting back into the swing off things.

She’s made a decent name for herself in the world of print media. Even received a few nominations for a Pulitzer Prize, though never actually received the award itself, most recently for her coverage of the riots in Egypt. After words, she was approached by NATO and asked if she’d be willing to act as a record keeper for the organization, going into the field alongside the Committee agents and reporting back on their actions. While the pay wasn’t spectacular, Sasha choose to lend her aid. She knew, first hand, how difficult life was for the millions of Jokers who found themselves outcast to the fringes of society. She wanted to help. Which really only made it all the more disappointing, when she saw how totally ineffective the group she’d been assigned to report back on was.

Her displeasure with the team became more and more apparent in her reports with each ‘successful mission’. They were glorified poster boys, a team that did nothing more than smile and wave for the cameras. That’s when the letter came, no return address. It read with a simple question, if she wanted to continue working with the Committee and their red tape, or if she wanted to make a difference.

It wasn’t a tough choice to make, not by a long shot.

Personality:Sasha is generally personable, though not particularly warm. She comes across as a woman much older than she appears, and more than a tad distant. Perceptive and inquisitive, she’s got a knack for chasing down information. She won’t tolerate mistreatment towards Jokers, nor does she have any patience for politics when they get in the way of actually helping people. She’s fairly reliable, and defiantly honest in her dealings with others, even brutally so if she wants to make sure she gets her point across.

History:Aphrodite Reborn, now as the child Alice Maryweather. Born in Miami, she knew from her earliest days that she was no ordinary human. She knew that, while her body was just that of a baby, her spirit was divine. All her memories were still there, the knowledge that she and she alone was the goddess of love and beauty. However, her powers were lost to her, and she could not bring them forth. This was maddening. In her past life, she'd never needed to exert herself, never needed worry or fret over anything. She'd never needed to. With her power, it'd been easy to simply get another to indulge in her whims. But now, things had changed. Her power was gone, and with it, her command over the hearts of mortals. Certainly, it was a humbling experience. At first, she was miserable, feeling weak and pitiful. But, time passed, and she grew accustomed to her new lot in life, trying to make the best of it. She read books, since she no longr could get by on her looks alone, she needed to improve her intelligence as well.

Things changed for her when she turned 16. Alice felt it all come back to her, a rush of energy which was unlike anything a mortal could describe, as was the elation she felt. Once again, she was a goddess. No longer feeling bound by mortal concerns, she was able to indulge in all the desires which had been kept back over the years. On a whim, she entered a reality TV show, a singing contest. Her flawless beauty and unmatcable voice propelled her to the top of the charts, she was a teenage Idol. With that, she now had money enough to ensure that she'd be kept in the lap of luxury, as befitting one of her status. While being a pop star was nice, it slowly began to feel hollow. She was loved by millions, sure, but she didn't feel like she was respected. It seemed like her fans and her agents and produces saw her only for her musical abilities, not the person beyond them. She decided to change that.

Making a few phone calls, she got herself a roll in a major motion picture, and thus began her carrier in acting. Since then, Alice has starred in dozens of films, always to critical success. She's won countless awards and praise, and has found it more rewarding, since it gives her a chance to show off her other assets beyond...well...her assets, especially when she wrote her own scripts (though admittedly, this was one area she did not excel in.) There were other benefits to, like staging a movie shoot in the amazon as an excuse to go and fetch her girdle. Forged by Hephaestus, she'd given it to the amazonian queen, who'd in turn given it to Hercules as one of his labors. Following that, the enchanted belt had found its way back to the amazons, where it lay hidden. Given her knowledge of where the hidden village was, it took no real effort to slip away one day and go fetch the belt, before returning to filming.

In more recent times, She's purchased her own private estate, on a large island in the Caribbean. In addition to stocking it with the finest luxuries money can buy, she also recruited her own private militia to ensure the island remains safe and secure against any pirates, thieves or obsessed fans.

Personality & Motivation :Alice is a complex individual. On the one hand, she's lustful, selfish, arrogant and vengeful. On the other, her time without powers has humbled her greatly, and while she's still prone to emotional outbursts, she's far, far better than she used to be. In everything she does, she does to excess. She is full of energy and life, letting her emotions run freely, with little concern for what may come from such reckless abandon. She follows whatever whim strikes her, and sticks with it till something else gets her attention. While not especially dumb, she is rather simplistic or even childish at times, certainly one would not guess she's one of the oldest of gods. Her view of the world is very clear cut, regardless of the actual complexities. As such, she acts without thinking, usually causing widespread repercussions. She sees mortals as something between servants and pets, manipulating them to serve her and entertain her, but finding them fascinating and adorable. Fun loving, impulsive and willful, you can be sure that whatever she does, it'll be big.

Complications:Vengeful: Do not mistake her kindness for weakness, and don’t abuse her patience. If you make her your enemy, Alice Will make you regret it.

Pride: Along a similar vain, Alice is more humble then she used to be, but that’s more because she forces herself to try and act humble, rather than actually being humble.

Short sighted: Not in the sense that she needs glasses, rather, she has little capacity to plan ahead. She deals with things best when they are right in front of her, and simply forgets to consider, or outright ignores the ramifications of her actions.

Emotional: Alice’s emotions have a bad tendency to get out of hand rather quickly. Anger is the most obvious one, but the others are not exactly well behaved. Whatever emotion she feels, you can bet she’ll usually feel it strongly.

Lovesick: Being the goddess of love does not make her immune to the emotion. Sometimes, a person comes along that strikes her just the right way, and she’ll find herself attracted to them. Alice has trouble keeping herself under control when she’s in this state. Thankfully, her affections tend to be fleeting.

Famous: Due to her world wide movie and music carrier, Alice is recognized almost everywhere she goes.

History: Nimue was born on the frontier lands, in the far north of Rashemen. Mostly a farming village, barely a small hamlet, it was tucked away and often overlooked. Child to the villages Fyrra, this would normally mean that she was fairly well off, though in such a humble township, the title carried less weight than one might expect. Even as a child, it was often noted that she was especially bright and inquisitive, which brought a great joy to her family. Among the village population was a dabbling spell caster, whom Nimue pestered endlessly with questions about the nature of magic, receiving a brief introduction to the subject which eventually turned into an ad hoc apprentice. While proficient, she felt somewhat confined by her instructor’s limited knowledge. Still, the experience of casting her first spell was mesmerizing and she knew at once that this was her calling. The feel of the arcane energies flowing through her, directed out by her will to take form and shape, imposing her ideas onto the world was a sensation so unlike anything else that it overwhelmed and enthralled her at once.

Her life was irreversibly changed when tragedy struck. Whether driven by hunger, or perhaps perceiving some slight against it, a Fang Dragon descended upon the tiny hamlet, the beast turning its power towards the destruction of everything before it. The militia attempted what resistance it could, but these people were farmers, not soldiers. They stood little chance and were killed to the last. Some ran into the forests to try and escape, some managed to make it. Nimue survived thanks to a old invisibility scroll her tutor had kept, which she used to stay hidden while the slaughter took place around her. The sight of her entire world being torn apart before her petrified the child with fear. While she might not have been harmed physically, only a fool would claim the attack had left her unscarred.

Eventually, The dragon left, having obliterated all but a scant few buildings and a handful of survivors. A few days passed, those that remained having little direction or motivation, still shell shocked. In time, a detachment of Wychlaran arrived, hunting the dragon which had raided several other settlements. They offered what aid they could to the townsfolk, staying for the night while they prepared to assault the dragon in force. Nimue approached one of the Witches, offering a scroll which she’d scribed herself, knowing full well that her magic was to weak to be of any real help, yet unwilling to do nothing.

Impressed, both by the aptitude that one so young showed, as well as her spirit, Nimue was promised that her help would not go overlooked. The witches departed the following morning, and returned in victory three days later, the dragon slain. They approached Nimue, and told her that, if she wished, they would take her back with them, so she might receive a proper apprenticeship under the guiding hand of the Wychlaran, so that one day she to could stand among them.

The next years were hard, yet more wonderful than Nimue might ever have dreamed. She was brought into the sisterhood, given proper teachings in harnessing and directing the fundamental forces of the universe. Each day she grew more in knowledge and power, a shining example of her order. Yet, for all her success, she craved more. At night, she was still haunted by the memories of her village, the faces of the dead flashing before her. It pushed her, forced her to grow stronger. What had happened, her failure to save anyone but herself, was something that she’d never allow to happen again. No matter what the cost.

As her time as an apprentice came to a close, the older members of the order came to sense that their beloved pupil harbored a darkness inside her. Small? Yes. Dangerous? Perhaps. While her actions and character seemed to be benevolent, there was something about her which did not sit well with them. While officially indocternated into the order, she was not granted the full title of Hathran, not until such a time as her true character could be judged free of the dark desires which lurked in its depths.

Since then, Nimue has still served well her country, repelling against the insurgent forces of the Red Wizards, or coming to the aid of the common folk when some fell beast descends upon them. Her skills continue to improve, yet her intoxication with her own power has yet to fade, instead growing stronger yet. The elder members fear that she might fall to the lure of corrupted magics, becoming a Durthan. Some say it is only a matter of time before her need for arcane might overcomes her desire to aid her sisters and country.

Personality & Motivation:Nimue is an exceedingly driven individual. She will peruse a goal with vigor and determination, applying all her intelligence and power to overcome whatever obstacle blocks her. She is kind, this much must be said, and works to aid those weaker than her when possible. But she is not perfect, sometimes ignoring requests for aid when she’s set her sights on what she feels to be a more important task. Somewhat arrogant in regards to her mystical abilities and knowledge of the arcane, she has little interest or confidence in the more mundane aspects of life. Why bother contemplating swordplay or archery, when with but one spell she can reshape the world? Her Aloofness can be somewhat distancing, perhaps even making her seem cold. This may be true, and indeed a fair statement, but it must not be forgotten that she works towards the greater good, even if she’s not humble about it. She refuses to accept failure from herself, and when met with something she cannot overcome, she redoubles her efforts. This can quickly turn into outright obsession, her drive refusing to let her back down, even when her best attempts prove futile. She also has a great lust for power, coveting arcane secrets and wisdom. In her own mind, many otherwise inconsiderable choices might become negotiable, with the justification being that with greater power, she can do even more to protect Rashemen.

Complications:Enemy: The Witches of Rashemen are constantly at opposition to the Red Wizards of Thay, and both seek to undermine or overpower the other.

Pride: Nimue has a great deal of confidence, indeed bordering on arogence, in her own magical abilities. She often will attempt to handle tasks alone, even when it would be far more effective to rely on others.

Drawn to power: Though its an impulse that she would describe as simply being academic curiosity, Nimue has a great thirst for power, and is drawn to any potential means of increasing her magical abilities. This can easily override her better judgment. If confronted, she might justify her cravings as coming from a noble position, that holding greater personal power would allow her to better protect the weak and helpless. But, ultimately, she desires power for its own sake.

June was born in a small out of the way community in New Hampshire. While a competent student, one who likely could have had a bright future in any number of fields, she had no real desire to persue a higher education. Indeed, from a young age, she’d only had one real goal. June wanted to be a big time Hollywood star, her face up on the silver screen, millions adoring her. She had been suckered into the glitz and glam, and decided to make herself an actress. While not terrible, she wasn’t an especially gifted performer, not that this dissuaded her in the least. After graduating high school, she packed up her things and prepared to set off for Hollywood. Her parents tried their best to dissuade their daughter, encouraging her to go into something more sensible. She promptly ignored these sentiments, promising them that the next time they saw their child, she’d be a celebrity.

Arriving in the Movie Capital of the world, June set about trying to get herself discovered. She auditioned for parts, took acting lessons, and got herself nowhere. Her college fund was able to keep her fed and clothed with a mediocre apartment, but that wouldn’t last forever. Like so many other hopeful youths, she found out that the dream of hitting the big time was near impossible. When her funds started to run low, she begrudgingly tried to find some work to help pay the bills. She caught her first lucky break, getting a temp job with a Special effects crew. The Pay wasn’t great, but she figured this might be the first step towards show business.

While her work backstage didn’t seem to do anything to get her cast as a leading roll, it did prove to be a surprisingly fun use of her time. Building props, designing backgrounds, sewing costumes and applying makeup. Glamorous? No. But rewarding and enjoyable. She stuck around with the production time, getting full time work, going from picture to picture, gaining experience in the field. Sure, she still wanted to be an actress, but all the same, she was pretty happy with where she was.

That was until yesterday. Yesterday, the sky flashed red, and the world stopped. Everything around her came to a crushing standstill, frozen in an instant. She didn’t know what to make of it, part of her wondering if she’d died and this was what the afterlife was like. As she continued to explore the world, it dawned on her that she didn’t feel dead, but rather, that she was moving very, very fast. So fast, that by comparison, the rest of the world was suspended in time. And boy, what a moment it was. Wandering through the world around her, she found people who seemed to be like her, stuck in some sort of transformation. Some burst into flames, some were in the middle of feats of superhuman strength. Some were so twisted, caught in mid change between human and creature, that she mistook them for some of the monsters she’d helped build. The world was morphing into something strange and new, and she was stuck in a photograph.

At first, she amused herself by causing mischief. Moving people or objects around, drawing silly things on their faces, things like that. It kept her going for a few days. After that, she took up traveling, seeing all the neat sights which she’d never had time for up until now. Museums, Landmarks, Art Galleries…you name it. That worked for a few weeks. She went abroad, finding that she was more than fast enough to cross the oceans just by running atop the waters surface. Paris, London, Egypt, Bejing, Tokyo, New York, Orlando. She circled the globe, her trips lasting for what felt like months. Eventually she even got around to sitting down and just reading, pouring through libraries for entertaining stories. But time just kept dragging on around her. Minutes, Hours, Days, Years. She started losing track of how long she’d been in Limbo.

She began to feel her sanity slipping. Boredom was a big problem, since having what seemed like an eternity to spend on nothing but personal pleasures sounds great, until you have to fill it. She tried everything that came to mind, and still could not escape the ever present doldrums that hung about her. Yet, worse still than the dull passage of each moment, was the loneliness. There was nobody to talk to, Nobody to interact with, nobody she could share her thoughts and feelings with. Everything was just to damn slow. She tried to communicate with the statue like people whom she encountered. It was a futile gesture. In the time It might take for them to blink, she’d find herself waiting for days.

As thoughts of simply killing herself and being done with it crept into her mind, June was at last saved from her nightmare, gaining control over her power enough to finally come back down to normal speed. To an outside observer, only a few hours had passed. For her, it had been a lifetime. Sure, society might have been in the midst of the biggest crisis to ever happen, with panic in the streets and confusion amongst the populace, nobody understanding what was happening as more and more people changed into god knows what. But June didn’t care. She couldn’t. She was happy enough just to be back, to hear people talking, to see the world moving again.

Personality:

June comes across as an incredibly upbeat person, indeed, almost to the point of being insufferably optimistic with a wicked motor mouth. Cheerful, friendly, and happy. Of course, who wouldn’t be. She’s just happy to have someone to talk to. Her joyous nature can be very off-putting, sometimes seeming inappropriate. To her, virtually anything is better than the eternity she spent stuck in hyper-speed, so no matter how bleak the situation may seem, she doesn’t lose her chipper attitude. When you’ve been through hell, what else is there to be upset over? She’s often mixed though, between her need for contact with others, and her inability to keep time clear in her head. She might spend hours on a trivial project, and think it only a few moments, or become bored to tears with a conversation that’s only been going on a few minutes. All in all, it’s fairly clear that the experience of gaining her abilities has done some pretty traumatic damage to her mind and personality, leaving her an unstable and mentally disjointed individual.

Complications:

Fluid Time: Moving and thinking at speeds hundreds of times faster than humans has done a huge amount of damage to her ability to mentally keep track of the passage of time, especially while moving at high speeds. What feels like hours to her might only be a split second.

Clingy: June has developed a minor compulsion to stay around other people, due to her difficulty in keeping time straight in her head. Having other people around helps her feel stabilized.

Secret: June is a closet lesbian, and fears social stigma if this secret gets out, partially due to not yet coming to terms with her emotions yet. She has little fear over letting her abilities be known.

History: Coming up from a fairly low end family of third generation Irish Immigrants, Ashley knew she had little money for a proper education, which presented itself as an obstacle to her dream profession, of becoming a school teacher. However, there was one path which seemed to make itself available to her, and that was by working in the armed forces , which was more than willing to pay her way through college in exchange for a few years of service. It seemed a fair enough trade, so when she turned 18, Ashely went to the registration center, and signed on to the U.S. Army.

Not exactly a prime specimen, Ashley wasn’t expected to make it through boot camp, however, she had a great fire inside her and a drive which far exceeded others, which allowed her to dig deeper and push herself harder than any of the other recruits. She also displayed a knack for medicine, and began training as a field medic. While her first two years of service were fairly quiet, mostly consisting of training exercises or aiding in disaster relief, her number came up in her third year of service, and she was deployed to an active combat zone. Working alongside her brothers in arms, Ashely received several awards for distinguished service, going above and beyond the call of deuty to assist those injured in battle.

Her bravery was commendable, but it wasn’t a bulletproof shield, and she got the bad luck of taking a hail of gunfire while attempting to extract a wounded officer from the line of fire. The Bullet damaged her spinal cord, rendering her paralyzed from the waist down. That marked the end of her combat carrier, as she was deemed no longer fit for duty, and returned stateside to begin physical therapy.

The doctors and surgeons and all manner of professionals informed Ashley that the damage was simply to severe, and that she’d never recover. Ashley, in turn, told them to shut up, and would listen to none of it. Two years passed, without sign of any progress, yet she continued to grit her teeth and insist that she’d walk again. Despite all the evidence suggesting that it was impossible, Ashley turned out to be correct, as the damage to her spin began to heal, her ironclad resolve seeming to fly in the face of modern medicine, her body refusing to give up and accept anything less than a complete recovery.

At the same time as she was undergoing therapy, Ashley was also studying, and received a full degree in education, as well as a minor in child psychology. She went on to teach elementary school children, finding the work to be equally satisfying and challenging.

This all changed rather recently, When Ashley McAdams Was Chosen for a higher calling. One Night, while she was walking home, A green light came hurtling down out of the sky. As if drawn to her, the light honed in on Ashley’s position, coming to rest not 10 feet in front of her. As the Emerald Glow faded, she saw that the source of the light was a green ring. It…spoke to her. There’s no other way to describe it. It told her that it had come seeking someone with an indomitable will, and that she was such a person. It asked if she would take up the Mantle of the Green Lantern, and serve as a Protector of the weak and Enforcer of Law in the universe. Though part of her feared this strange, alien force, she knew that this was an opportunity which would never again present itself to her. She agreed, and the Ring affixed itself to her hand, flooding her with its power and knowledge. She found herself being propelled through the air, away from earth and into the depths of space.

She arrived on the distant world of Oa, where she was presented before the Guardians of the Universe, whom would judge if she was worthy of wielding the Light of the Green lantern. For whatever reason, perhaps agreeing with Ashley’s testimony of merit, perhaps sensing that she had great potential, but whatever the case, they agreed, and she was taken into training.

In many ways, learning to harness the power of the Lantern Ring was like the boot camp she’d received when joining the army. However, this was far more difficult. Not only did it demand a great amount of physical resilience, but also a great level of focus and concentration. She was instructed to shape her thoughts through her ring, to give the light form and shape and power. In time, she became proficient at wielding the green light, making it at once a tool and an ally.

Now a Green Lantern in Full, She was able to return home, resuming care of her students, but also now acting as an agent of justice, bringing criminals and lawbreakers to bear punishment for their actions, both on earth and on distant and alien worlds.

Complications:Secret Identity: For her own safety, and that of others around her, Ashley strives to keep her power a secret.

Code Of Conduct: While given a great deal of freedom, Ashley is held to certain standards of performance when acting as a green lantern. Full listing of the Code would be near impossible, but the basic tenants are simple enough to grasp. Protection of the innocent, the perusal of criminals and evil, Avoiding killing whenever possible, only acting when there is reasonable evidence supporting the case and similar principles.

Duel Occupation: While her work as a Lantern is important, Ashley also has children who she has been charged with educating, and must work to make sure that she isn’t lax in her more mundane responsibilities.

History: Hibiki enjoyed what can be called a rather undistinguished childhood amid the Kakita family within the Crane Clan. As the first born, it was considered a point of pride for her to follow in the footsteps of her parents, specifically, in receiving the Training the the families legendary Iaijutsu school. Considered by many as the finest in all the empire, it was a great honor to peruse such a esteemed place within the clan. Indoctrinated within the dojo at a young age, Hibiki began learning the ways of the sword. The style, built on the principle that a single perfect strike can fell any warrior, and so learns to channel her focus into a single strike, drawing, attacking, and resheathing the sword in a single motion. While talented, though not especially so, she still enjoyed her early years within the academy.

As she aged, Hibiki began to outpace her other students, physically maturing faster, and growing to a rather staggering height. At first, it was nothing abnormal. Just an early bloomer. However, her growth continued, soon placing her higher than her masters. Much higher. She simply towered over the others within her clan, standing a head taller than them. Still young, she only thought of the positives of this situation. It gave her a much longer sword arm, greatly improving her range. However, the downsides made themselves present in short order, as she found herself alienated from most of her peers. Unkind things were whispered when it was thought she wasn't listening. Some suggested she wasn't actually a crane at all, but a crab who'd been adopted at birth. Doubts crept into her mind, but instead of weakening her, they acted to temper her resolve. She knew her place within the world, as a warrior of her clan. And she would prove herself worthy of her name, regardless of whatever kami had decided to grant her such an abnormally sized body.

She trained far harder than she had before, working herself to exhaustion and beyond, her skills increasing greatly. Any who mocked her for her stature soon found themselves presented with a simple ultimatum. Seek her forgiveness for such a slight against her name, or be prepared to draw swords over the matter. It only took a few to choose the later, and be soundly defeated in single combat, to silence the rest. Passing through the tiers of her school, the time came when she was old enough to be fully recognized as a samurai of her clan, and to take up arms in the name of her lord. It was one of the happiest days of her life.

For several years since, Hibiki has dutifully acted as both a sword arm and a diplomat, sometime both at the same time. While her size continues to present a problem, she's more than proven herself competent inspire of it, and still maintainability that any who would insult her stature should do so knowing they do so at their own risk. However, there is a fear looming in her future. Iaijutsu requires speed and precision above all else, and while the later is no issue, the former has begun to present a problem, as she finds herself begining to be outpaced by other students of the Kakita school. Continued training may help her to overcome this, yet on the other hand, there is the worry that she has simply reached the peak of her abilities.

There is also the matter of finding a potential husbond, so that her family name can continue and the next generation of swordmen for the clan can be raised. She find the notion rather daunting, indeed, is unsure if she is fit to be a bride for any man. While she puts the issue off, focusing on her other duties, it is one which she knows cannot be ignored forever.

Personality: Hibiki acts as is expected of a Crane Samurai. While never hesitating to take up arms when the situation calls for it, she does not discount the value of a few kind words to defuse a battle before it begins. Cultured and intelligent, but equally humble, she acts with grace and compassion towards others. Below the surface, she harbors doubts about herself, stemming from the duel fears that she is simply doomed to never be as great a swordsman as she wishes she could be, and that she is equally doomed to be an outsider from others by virtue of her size. This leads her to be somewhat more driven than others, eager to prove herself in all things, hoping that she may make herself the ideal of her clan, living as according to the ways of her people.

Complications:

Above The Crowd: Hibiki stands significantly taller than most women, or even men. In addition to making her very noticeable and easy to remember, it also carries the social stigma associated with such size. She is often mistaken for a member of the Crab clan, just by virtue of size, or at least presumed to be rather slow witted and brutish, something directly at odds with the cranes reputation of being the zenith of culture. At best, she can be seen as an oddity, at worst, a freak of nature.

JIN (Compassion):A wise person tempers power with mercy. A great leader doesn't overwork and tax his peasants to selfish ends. So too, are the wisest Samurai those who understand mercy is a fundamental principle of the Celestial Order, and the law of the Emperor.

REI (Courtesy): Though strength of arms is the domain of the Samurai, respect must also take its place. The Empire would quickly devolve into chaos without a strong tradition of courtesy.

MEYO (Honor): Honor is the binding force that defines all Samurai, the shining virtue that elevates them above the common man. Honor can not truly be defined, for those without honor will never truly understand.

MAKOTO (Sincerity): For a Samurai, word and action coincide to complete the true meaning of sincerity. A Samurai need not make promises, for every word he speaks should breathe sincerity. A Samurai's word is the cornerstone of his reputation and cannot be violated.

CHUGO (Duty): All that exists has a purpose: to recognize and fulfill that purpose insures the virtue of duty. Even the Emperor must bow before the heavens and a Samurai can do no less than follow his example.

Gregor Gerhardt was a young man who found himself in a trying time. The second great world war had broken out, and he was conscripted into service for his country and for the Fuhrer. While not of especially strong commitment to cause, he did as commanded, just as many young men in his place would have done. Was he proud of himself? No. But he got by as best he could. As the tide began to turn, he found himself on the Eastern front, Dealing with endless clashes against the Russian Military machine, as well as battling it out against the elements. As each day mad it more and more clear that the axis was falling, he reached the conclusion that his survival was dependent on him escaping from service as soon as possible. He got his chance when a blizzard rolled up in the middle of the night. All it took was for him to grab what supplies he could fit in his pack, and head off into the snow. Beyond twenty paces, he may as well have been invisible through the thick screen of falling snow.

In his mind, he thought he was heading back into Europe. He'd planned to find a small village somewhere, ditch his uniform and become just another refugee from the fighting. However, he failed to note the treachery that one's senses can play, and became turned around in the storm, heading into Russian Territory. As hours ticked by, he strayed further and further from civilization. As hypothermia began to eat its way through his clothing and he cursed whatever cruel god had lead him to this, he caught a lucky break, finding a small cave to shelter himself in. As he explored his temporary home, he found that it was some sort of ancient burial site. Cave drawings dotted the walls, bones of the long dead were scattered here and there. As were a few old artifacts. While he knew that they might have some value, he had little room for anything beyond the supplies he'd need to stay alive. So, though he wished to do otherwise, he left the cave with none of the treasures he'd found within, once the storm had finally passed.

Days of hiking eventually brought him to a hamlet secluded in the mountains, where he collapsed from exhaustion. Awakening to find his injures tended to, Gregor enjoyed the welcome he'd received from the Russian people. Tired of fighting, he settled down there, making it his home. Eventually, he took up a bride, and bore children, who would go on in turn to have children of their own.

That was the story that Natasha grew up on, sitting on the lap of her Grandfather, and it was the story she often thought about later in life, after she'd taken up a profession in archaeology. While he hadn't mapped out its location, She knew that the cave he'd spoken off must be real, and often spent long hours pouring over maps and surveys of the western border, trying to find some clue as to its location. Her efforts went largely unrewarded, till, much like her grandfather, she happened to stumble upon it after getting separated from the rest of her expedition group.

The find was certainly impressive, dating back to the end of the last ice age. As the discoverer, she had first claim to examining the artifacts. To her great suprise, the relics she'd uncovered seemed to have some manner of writing on them, the most obvious of which was on a large scepter of some kind. Bit by bit, she went about translating the dead language, slowly uncovering its hidden meaning, never suspecting that what she was reading was in fact an incantation.

The spell was cast before she knew what was happening, awakening forces long left dormant. In her mind, she could see the story playing out.

During the last great cooling of the planet, the world came into tune with others, gateways to power beyond this plane were opened. From one such gate was awakened a terrible creature, born of not but ice and rage. It ravaged all it came across, plunging the land into a bitter winter without end. The people were helpless, till they chanced upon the same energies which had created the living glacier. They grew wise, touched by mystic power. Working an enchantment of great power, they crafted a cloak to repel the creatures dealtly chill. They forged a weapon which could feed off its energies, a weapon which could slay it.

Their greatest warrior rose against the beast, and for three days and nights they battled across the tundra, each growing weary and weak. But the warrior proved victories, landing a fatal blow and ending the monster. The weapon, flooded with the cool and icy magic which had birthed the creature, now possessed that same power, manipulating snow and ice and a frozen wind, shaping them to the will of its wielder.

She saw how the ages changed, how the connections to magic grew weaker, and the staff was eventually forgotten for millennia, till she'd uncovered it, reawakening the energies which had dwelt within. She felt the energy resonating through her, and glimpsed at worlds beyond the one she knew, sensing that again the two realms had drawn close and the world would find itself again blessed, and cursed, with a new age of beings who could tap into that power.

And though she did not know what would come from it, she knew that terrible evils had been done in the past with such power, and would come again. She knew that she now had a weapon which could repel that evil. And she knew it was her responsibility to use that power to protect her home and her people from such a fate.

Personality : Natasha is not know for having a warm and sunny disposition. She has a rough exterior, and little tolerance for slackers or lay bouts. She strives to make her every action a deliberate effort, always working towards reaching her goals. She keeps her speech Spartan, which, when coupled with her limited grasp of English often makes her seem unintelligent. She doesn’t mind people who see her that way, since it just means they are underestimating her abilities. Often, she can be seen as a slave driver, relentless in her efforts and unwilling to compromise, but this is only a partially true. She pushes those around her to be the best they can, and while this means making them work hard, she never sets her standards of others so high as to be unreachable. Under neither it all, she has a sort of gentleness about her, one that’s hard to notice, but never entirely overlooked. Those who spend time in her company will inevitably come to notice this softer side. She is like a stern, but loving mother. Fierce and blunt, but not cruel.

Complications:Daughter of Germany: As a half Germanic Woman of aryian appearance, Natasha is not especially trusted by the allied forces, and many will assume she is in fact member of the Reich until proven otherwise.

Grandfather Paradox: Her grandfather was a member of the Nazi party, but defected to Russia. She has no idea what will happen if she encounters her own grandparents, or worse, if they are killed.

Personal Hate: Given the history of her family, she has an especially strong hatred for the Nazi party, feeling shame for having any connection to them at all.

Magical Novice: Despite tapping into the arcane forces, Natasha is still inexperienced in mystical matters beyond her domain over ice and snow.

Language: While able to speak many languages, She's only just begun to learn English, speaking with rough and broken grammar, as well as a heavy accent. This can lead to some difficulties when trying to convey more complex concepts, for which she lacks the vocabulary to easily express.

History: River never knew her birth parents, having been left in an orphanage when she was only a few days old, spending the first few years of her life there. She was only 5 when she caught a lucky break, or at least what would seem a lucky break. She’d been chosen for adoption by Mr. Mat Willard, businessmen who’d amassed a fortune in stocks and investments. She’d been chosen as something of a gift, his (3rd) wife having a great love for children, but unwilling to endure the labor of childbirth herself. It seemed like a story right out of a fairy tale at first, a little orphan girl being taken in by a wealthy and kind family.

Except the latter part wasn’t especially true. Mr. Willard was never especially cruel, but it would be a stretch to call him a kind man. Shrewd, narrow minded, prone to giving in to spite and vengeance when he felt slighted by others. Her adoptive mother was much kinder, and this might have been an agreeable arrangement if she’d stuck around. Only a few years after River had been adopted, Mr. Willard and his spouse had a falling out after he accused her of infidelity. The divorce was ugly, but Mr. Willard got the better of the deal, not surprising given that he had far more money to toss around at lawyers. He maintained full custody over River, not so much because he had any strong attachment to the girl, more so because his ex-wife wanted the child.

Growing up was difficult for River. Her father took care of her every material need, but remained so emotionally distant. He would occasionally offer a gesture of kindness or compassion, but it never felt real. Always it seemed a calculated move, one that had been scrutinized and measured to ensure the bottom line was worth the investment. Anyone who observed the two when they were together would never guess that they were anything but strangers.

Each year, Mr. Willard would take several of his closest friends down to his private estate in the Caribbean. River would usually be allowed to come along, provided she kept quiet and out of the way when the adults were around. Since the men would usually be off golfing or on their yacht, River would head down to the beach and play in the sand and surf, poking around the tide pools or looking for treasures that had washed up on shore. She recalls one time discovering a beautiful crescent shaped pendent, which shimmered in the sunlight. Not entirely sure what it was, beyond pretty, she made it into a necklace, soon after taking up wearing the bauble at all times as something of a good luck charm.

Growing older, She graduated from high school (or rather, high school equivalent, having received her education through private tutors). Initially going into business as her father wanted, she found the studies equally dull and disinteresting. One semester, she took the opportunity to intern for a professor doing research on Coral Reefs, looking at some easy credits. Instead, she found the work to be amazing, even having something of a knack for it herself. She decided to switch majors, going into Marine Biology. Mr. Willard, upon hearing this, simply said that it was ‘disappointing’.

Following graduation, River went on to pursue a masters degree. While gaining field experience, she and her fellow scientists found themselves caught in a sudden squall in the gulf of Mexico. The storm grew in ferocity hour by hour, the small research boat being hammered by waves on all sides. As River struggled to keep her footing, a huge wave broke over the ship, tossing her overboard. Never before had she felt such fear as she did then, caught in waves which pushed her all about, rain pouring down on her, helpless to watch as the ship drifted away from her, till it vanished off in the distance.

Alone, caught in a storm and adrift at sea, She swam for hours, fighting each moment to keep herself from being dragged under. Her body ached, equally from the chill of the water and the strain of her efforts. Little by little, her strength left her, till she could fight no longer and felt herself start to sink.

As she felt the darkness creeping around her, the roar of the waves fading away, her thoughts slowing as her lungs screamed for air, River knew she was about to die. As the last of her consciousness faded, a voice rang out in her mind. It was soft and quiet, motherly and welcoming. It told her this was not her death, this was her birth. That she wore the amulet of the seas, and as such, was blessed by the oceans, infused with their energies. All she need do was will it, and she’d be saved. Drowning, exhausted and unable to do more than dumbly listen to the voice in her mind, River accepted what was said. She opened her mouth and took a deep breath, expecting to die as water flooded her lungs.

Instead, she felt her strength come rushing back, her thoughts clearer and sharper. The depths no longer felt empty or hostile. She felt safe, and welcome. She felt like she’d come home. River Had broken out, a great power awakening inside of her. She found her body changed, no longer a thing of flesh and blood, but of bone. She could move freely through the water, effortlessly. It was a part of her, and she a part of it. It was blissful.

Now empowered, it was a trivial matter to make her way back to shore. As she stepped onto land, she almost instinctively willed herself to change back, once more a human being. But she was changed none the less. She had a power now, a purpose. She was elemental, a force of nature.

A Year has passed since that day. Rivers miraculous survival was the subject of a momentary media bonanza, but quickly forgotten as the next story came along. She’s dropped out of her classes, claiming that the experience was traumatic enough that she simply has no interest in returning to the open ocean any time soon. In reality, she simply wanted more time along to spend exploring the oceans and rivers and lakes of the world. She also wanted time to take action against those whom she felt were abusing her kingdom, attacking fishing boats and oil drilling platforms, acting mostly in secret.

However, she’s begun to question if this is the right path for her. Yes, it felt great enacting her vengeance against mankind, which didn’t respect the beauty of the seas. On the other, she’d still have to come ashore eventually and see the news reports, covering the devastation she’d caused. It never felt especially good, seeing the aftermath of her handwork or all the trouble she’d brought about. Surely, there must be a better way.

Personality: Rivers herself is usually somewhat reserved, quiet and passive. She dosn't assert herself, instead bending and adapting to others. Occasionally, she can be riled up enough to defy others, but mostly she is content to go with the flow of things. When she transforms, however, her personality becomes far more intense. She is more passionate and forceful, less willing to be confined by others and more driven to pursue her one motives. She also becomes somewhat less interested in the concerns and affairs of humankind, her attention focusing more on 'her' oceans. And she does indeed enforce that the waters of the world are hers, and hers alone. Certainly, she does not take kindly to others abusing what she perceives as her kingdom, nor does she hesitate to strike out against those responsible. In either case, River believes she was chosen by the ocean itself to act as its champion, and that her amulet is the mythical bond between the two. Others who are aware of her belief, may instead insist that she has merely fallen victim to the dumbo effect, her powers being innate and it is only her conviction that her necklace has power which gives it any actual ability. Such critics might go on to point out that the voice she believes she herd when drowning, was simply a delusion brought about by lack of oxygen. In any case, River will not listen to any such dissent, and continue her instance that the seas picked her for this blessing.

Complications:Wash Away: Despite her best efforts, River cannot transform her clothing when she becomes water, leaving her exposed when she changes back into flesh and blood.

Duel Motivations: River is torn between her compulsive attachment to the oceans of the world, which compels her to strike out against mankind for the harm they have done to the seas. Yet, on the other hand, she still is human and understands that many of the resources gained through the seas are vital. Trying to find some balance between these two conflicting viewpoints is a constant struggle.

Secret: River works to keep her identity hidden from public knowledge.

Water Bonded: River shares a connection with water, and feels ill when kept away from the oceans or other large bodies of water for extended periods of time. She describes the sensation as Her soul being thirsty.

Water Dependent: Given that her abilities are dependent on the presence of water, she is far less effective when none is present.

History:Daughter of the Elvin people, Raina was once a proud member of her people. The first century of her life was spent in peaceful bliss, growing up within the sheltered boarders of their forest kingdom, sequestered away from the realms of men. A talented Archer, upon reaching adulthood, she was inducted within the border guard of her homeland, charged with patrolling the forest and its edges, repelling any threat that was discovered, ensuring the safety of the people. It was a noble job, one well respected and honored. It was one she loved. To her people, she was a champion and protector. To her enemies, a mere shadow in the trees, a single leaf falling, and a swift death.

Her time was cut short by tragedy of the highest order. While traveling through the forests one day, she found a set of tracks she'd never seen prior. Following them, she found they lead to a freshly slain deer, its body torn apart. The savagery of the attack was on a level far above anything a simple animal could do. Something was loose in her forest. Perhaps it was arrogance, or pride, or simply that she did not think to call for assistance as she tracked the creature over dozens of miles, slowly gaining ground on it.

She reached her quarry under a full moon on night, at last setting eyes upon the beast. It was large, covered in a deep red fur, stripped with black. It stood on two legs, like a man, but was more akin to a cat in shape. It seemed to sense her presence, turning towards the young elf. In the moonlight, she saw its face, covered in blood from another fresh kill. Then, it charged. Her aim was true and fast, striking the beast with arrow after arrow, yet it kept coming, closing the distance in a scant few moments. Its teeth tore into her shoulder, blood flowing from the wound, yet she managed to slip free before it could do further damage.

Their battle lasted for hours, the two hunters dancing through the trees, briefly skirmishing only to retreat and attack again, each one stalking the other. Raina was pushed to her limits, but held the advantage in a battle of attrition, her toxins doing well to weaken the creature. Though it might recover from whatever injury she delt it, the beast could still fall prey to poison, and by weaking it little by little, she was at last able to energy in victory.

In the days following, as she made her way home, Raina began to grow ill. This was unheard of, as her people were immune to all natural illness, yet she felt her strength leaving her as infection spread into her vain through her injuries. She was barely conscious when she at last reached one of the smaller villages, collapsing as she was taken into care.

Despite their best efforts, the fever could not be broken, day after day she lay in agony as sickness wracked her body. Nearly a month passed, her condition never improving. However, as night began to fall and the full moon again breached the horizon, Raina suddenly awoke, her every sense sharp, her body feeling like it war burning up from within. She could feel something growing, boiling within her, pressing up towards the surface. it hurt, it hurt in ways she couldn't describe.

What followed was little more than a blur. Vague images, sounds of screaming, pain, death. Flashes of blood, faces momentarily glimpsed through a fog. It was like an awful nightmare. Yet it was far better than the nightmare she awoke to. Death surrounded her on all sides. Bodies, torn apart and left where they fell, blood pooling below them, eyes gazing forward without blinking, captured in their final moments, as if to tearfully ask why had Raina let this happen?

She had slain the creature, but had herself become the very same, a monstrous predator, a cursed being tainted with feral Savagery and blood lust. She was a weretigress now, and more than that, she was a threat to her homeland, to the people she'd been charged to defend at all cost. Her duty was clear, she could not remain in her homelands. So she placed herself in exile, departing the only home she'd known rather than risk bringing any more death.

Since that day, Raina has lived a life of solitude, sticking to the fringes of the world, forgotten corners where few would venture. For 40 years, She has survived off the land, natures bounty providing for all her needs. Her curse has followed her, the moon forcing her to change. In time, she learned to exert a measure of control, inducing the change by choice, directing her savage aspect. While never a perfect control, she could to an extent, act through her other side. It was enough to keep herself from venturing towards civilization while transformed.

Her solitude is broken only by brief trips into civilization, when she needs supplies that she could not get on her own. But aside from such brief ventures, she's exsited on her own, embittered by the curse she bears, leaving her cold and removed from others.

Personality:Raina is not a pleasant individual. She is sullen and morose, seeing the world as an empty place, one of cruelty and pain. She is cynical and pragmatic, her world view existing in very concrete and straightforward terms. Prone to sudden bouts of rage, her temperament can be unpredictable at times, often accelerating into violence. Even when not violent, she is rude and coarse, bluntly dealing with others. She doesn't mind isolation, indeed preferring it. She knows she is a monster, and a danger to others. In her time, she's learned its easier to live alone when others hate you than it is if they like you. She may not be nice, but she has managed to avoid fully surrendering to her more primal instincts. She still understands and tries to protect the value of life, she works to keep others safe from herself. More than anything, she desires to find a purpose for herself, a reason to keep on living. So far, she's yet to find one.

Complications:Monster: Raina's affliction makes her a monster in the sight of most societies, branding her forever an outsider to be feared. Hunted when possible, shunned elsewise, she can find little peace among any group that discovers her curse.

Mark of the beast: The bite mark from when she was bitten has left a clear scar wound which can be recognized by those knowledgeable in such lore. Keeping the mark hidden is vital if she is to keep from being discovered.

Rage: Her temperaments can be fiery and ferocious. Easily angered, she can lash out against others. Additionally, rage and anger can cause her to shift into her tiger form if she is not careful.

Lunar Change: While most of the time, Raina is able to control her transformations, the same can not be said while under the influence of the full moon. For three nights each month, she is unable to resist changing forms, and cannot change back till sunrise. She is also at her most aggressive during these times

Affliction: More than anything else, Raina fears that she will pass this curse onto another. When transformed, her bite carries with it the potential to change another into a weretiger.

Carnivore: While most of the elvish diet is fruits and vegetables, Raina's change has left her a strict carnivore. While she can eat other kinds of food, anything but meat is disgusting in taste.

Shape changing: Unless somehow enchanted, her clothing do not shift with her when she changes, usually is either heavily damaged or destroyed